


Mistakes Were Made

by PantyAnarchist, Ravvi



Series: Undertale Collaborations [9]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Fluff, I have no regrets, Masochist Sans, Other, Size Kink, Undertail, Undertale_Papyrus, Undertale_Sans, accidental fontcest, excessively large pillows, negative self-talk, pillows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-24 13:56:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9746837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PantyAnarchist/pseuds/PantyAnarchist, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravvi/pseuds/Ravvi
Summary: I am incapable of writing drabbles.  This was SUPPOSED to be a VERY short little thing based on @dirtytoxin’s post where Sans develops a fascination for pillows.  If you haven’t seen it, go look through it quick and then come back: http://dirtytoxin.tumblr.com/post/157170451921/an-overstuffed-bean-bag-would-be-easier-for-him-toHOLY HELL YOU ALL LIKE PILLOWS.  OK THEN, I SEE A SEQUEL IS NEEDED.  GOTCHA...





	1. Possibly a Bad Idea...

In hindsight, this may have been a bad idea. 

Sans lay supine under the large body-pillow, sweating as he considered his options. Calling for help was out of the question. No one was around, and even if they were, he DID NOT want to explain how a queen-sized body pillow had ended up halfway through his pelvic inlet. Taking a small shortcut might work, if he could just concentrate long enough to manage it. That was the risky part – if he lost focus, he’d probably wind up sprawled half naked across a table in Grillby’s.

The safest option was to, somehow, pull the pillow out. Unfortunately, it was very, VERY stuck.

Sans gripped the upper edges of the pillow and pulled, unable to choke back a groan as the fabric bunched up behind his pelvis, pushing outward against the sensitive bone of his pelvic arch and sacrum so tightly it burned. 

Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, he thought, hips twitching with every syllable as he struggled to tug the pillow through. His entire pelvic girdle was throbbing and each tiny rasp of fabric shifting against his bones sent a shudder of pleasure up his spine and down his spread femurs. His body was desperately trying to lubricate itself, and the pillow was happily wicking all the moisture away to keep its surface dry and comfortable. Damned high-quality fabric…

The orgasm surprised him, drawing a thin wail from his throat as his body clenched around the massive intrusion. The burn sharpened to a thrillingly harsh sting, and he collapsed back into the mattress with a whimpered gasp, legs splayed awkwardly around the heavy cushion. Damn pillows. Why did they have to feel so fucking good?

“Brother?” Sans froze as dread sent a flash of heat down the back of his neck. No, Papyrus was supposed to be gone for the day. Tell him he’d locked the door, PLEASE tell him he’d locked-the doorknob rattled, then clicked as the door swung inward. 

“Brother, I heard a noise, is everything-OH MY GOD WHAT HAPPENED?”

Sans felt his entire face heat up and was very glad that it was currently buried underneath a large pillow.

“ARE YOU OK? OH MY GOD, I’M SO SORRY, I DIDN’T REALIZE THAT THIS KIND OF PILLOW COULD ATTACK PEOPLE!”

Now there was a thought. Sans wasn’t sure whether he was laughing or crying when Papyrus gently pulled the top of the pillow away from his face and gave him a look of earnest sympathy. “Don’t you worry brother, I will save you.”

Sans’ eyes widened as Papyrus firmly took hold of the end of the pillow. “No, WA-HNNNGH!” Sans howled as Papyrus jerked downward. The pillow slipped a few inches down, dragging Sans along helplessly behind it.

“No, Pap, please-“ Sans gasped, hands scrabbling blindly where the pillow was thrust between his legs.

“I will get you through this, brother. Just hang on.”

There wasn’t much else Sans could do as Papyrus mercilessly began to yank the pillow free.


	2. pantyantichrist's Continuation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which @pantyanarchist writes a beautiful sequel to my silly drabble. Their comment on Tumblr was: 
> 
> Okay, so I read this and just…. yeah…. My fingers started going and I couldn’t stop…
> 
> Wait, that sounds bad….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written by pantyanarchist (tumblr). They're over here on A03:
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/PantyAnarchist/pseuds/PantyAnarchist

Sans gripped at his mattress as tightly as he could manage with his head swimming in equal measures of horror and pleasure. “p-paps, please, don’t- HNNNNGH! FUCK!” His eyelights rolled into the back of his skull as his brother pulled another few inches out of him, the throbbing ache having him fairly certain he was going to be suffering from some sort of “carpet burn” after it was all said and done.

“LANGUAGE BROTHER! I know it hurts, but just… bear with me. Just a little more and..” He looked down at the large pillow, cursing himself for buying such a dangerous item. Their customer service department would be receiving a very strongly worded letter after this ordeal. Since brute force didn’t seem to be working so well, perhaps a more gentle approach would suffice… “Alright, Sans, I’m… g-going to have to grab a little closer to your… p-pelvis, alright?” He tried to ignore the muffled sounds of protest… He was simply helping his brother, right? There was no reason to be… embarrassed. After clearing his non-existent throat, he brought his hands closer to where the pillow was stuck, gripping just a few inches from beneath his brother’s pelvis before slowly and carefully wiggling the object back and forth. It was working! Oh, but now that the pillow was off the smaller skele’s face it sounded like his brother was having a painful time of it. “Sans, are you alright? Should I go slower?”

Sans’ entire skull was bright blue, the white lights of his eyes no longer visible as they hid at the very tops of his sockets. “hnnnn… ye-…n-n-….” _Shit._ How was he even supposed to answer that? It hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, but but holy fucking stars, it hurt so _good!_ Wait, no, this was his _brother_ pulling the pillow out. This whole awkward affair needed to be over and done with _immediately!_ “no, just… just get it out, paps… p-please…” He covered his face with his hands and braced himself, telling himself to be completely silent until this was over.

Papyrus watched as the victim of this terrible pillow assault seemed to be having an internal struggle. “Alright. Let me just try to…” He yanked the pillow at an angle, getting a good couple inches, then yanked again in the opposite direction to get a little more, but stopped moving immediately at the sound that just echoed through the room. Did his brother just…. No. No, it was just from the pain, he wasn’t… He tugged again, feeling his face warm up at the sound of a whimper. Again. His soul was beginning to pound in his chest as an unmistakable sound of pleasure ripped through the air. “SANS! YOU’RE MAKING IT _REALLY_ HARD TO CONCENTRATE ON THE TASK AT HAND!”

“s-s-s-sorry, b-bro… it just… b-burns… so…” _good!_ He clamped his mouth tightly shut, but one tug after another had his resolve melting like a snowball in Hotland and by the end he was just gripping onto the mattress with tears rolling down his skull as a string of moans filled the air. At the final tug, his back arched and his mouth fell open in a silent scream and with the damp fabric no longer wicking up his juices it left them dripping all over his burning pelvis. He lay panting in his mess, no longer aware of his surroundings as he basked in what might have been one of the best orgasms of his life.

Papyrus stood at the end of the bed, completely stunned by the sight in front of him. He was beginning to suspect that maybe, perhaps, this pillow wasn’t the one taking advantage of his brother… No, he was quite sure it was the complete opposite. He looked down at the now nearly soggy pillow in his hands and he couldn’t drop it from his grasp fast enough. He gave his orgasmically intoxicated brother a look of disbelief and near-loathing before turning to leave the room with even the back of his neck glowing orange.

“Sans… you’re _disgusting_.”


	3. Those Darn Pillows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ravvi succumbs to popular demand and decides to celebrate 100 tumblr watchers at the same time. Here you go you little rascals. You're all awesome people and I hope you enjoy ^_^

Sans lay on the mattress, unwilling to move his exhausted, oversensitive body.  Papyrus’ words echoed through his head, making him feel sick as the last, warm remnants of the orgasm fluttered through his body.

_Sans…you’re disgusting._

Oh god, what had he done?  Papyrus was right.  Dammit, he was always right, and Sans didn’t deserve to have him as a brother, especially not after what just happened.  

Disgusting, lazy, and worthless. That was Sans, all wrapped up in a pathetic little bundle.  Ironically, the thought made him want to grab the body pillow and go for a second round. It was always easier to deal with how empty he felt inside when he could flood himself with that intoxicating mixture of pain and pleasure.

Groaning, Sans sat up, shuddering as his pelvis burned.  Damn, he’d really wrecked himself this time.  He glanced at the discarded pillow and winced when he saw the glistening swathes of blue streaking its surface, half thinking to himself that it would be hard to hide from Papyrus before catching himself with a dry chuckle that sounded more like a sob.

Moving was just going to make the pain worse, but he couldn’t just sit here, not when he needed to find his brother and beg for forgiveness.

Gingerly, Sans rolled over onto his front.  He flushed as the agony swept through him, gasping a little as he pressed his hands between his legs.   The bone all around the circumference of his pelvic inlet was rubbed raw, and the little joint at his pubic symphysis ached sharply where the magic holding him together had literally been stretched to the breaking point. He waited a moment to collect himself, then rose to his knees, shuddering as the brutally arousing pain slammed through his midsection and zipped down the insides of his femurs.  When he pulled his hands away, they were slick with blue fluid.

_Sans…you’re disgusting._

Eyesockets burning, Sans roughly rubbed his hands on the mattress and struggled to his feet.  He gasped when his pelvis screamed at him and the pain forced him back to his knees, hands clapped over his pelvic inlet.  The bone prickled under his fingers and he groaned, little white flashes exploding across his vision, and a light, euphoric feeling lifting him away from his body.

 _Heh_ , he thought giddily as endorphins flooded his mind.   _Seeing stars…_

He looked up with a gasp when the door clicked open again and Papyrus stepped inside.  Sans blanched, pain-induced euphoria quickly turning cold at the irritation plain on his brother’s face.

“Pap, I…I’m sorry,” Sans began.

“Hush!” Papyrus said brusquely.  “I’ve got the bath all filled up, can you get to it yourself?”

“I…uh,” Sans looked down, embarrassment burning across his cheekbones.  “No.”

Papyrus sighed. Wordlessly, he pulled out a large towel, gathered Sans up in it, and marched him into the bathroom.  As promised, the tub was half full of soapy water. Papyrus gently placed his brother into it, towel and all.  He didn’t react when Sans stiffened and sucked in a breath, shock thudding through his temples as cold water invaded his body.  He flailed a little when the wet cloth pinned his arms, struggling to sit up.  He wasn’t sure whether he felt desperately thankful, or crushingly disappointed as the cold cut through his arousal and numbed his pelvis.

“Pap, I-“ he started, but his brother had already left the room.  Sans peeled the towel away, then sat miserably in the cold water.  Goddamn it, he should have _said_ something, should have let his brother know what he was getting into somehow.  It had all just…happened so fast.

Sans started when Papyrus walked past the open door of the bathroom, holding the body pillow at arms’ length between two fingers.  He was muttering something that sounded like ‘ew ew ew ew’ under his breath, almost certainly headed straight for the washing machine.

Sans washed up as quickly as he could, draining the blue-tinted water and hanging the towel over the edge of the tub to dry once he’d finished.  He threw on the first set of clothes he came across, then hobbled into the living room.  Papyrus was in the kitchen, from the sounds of it.  He wasn’t sure whether the smashing sounds were from his usual ‘render the vegetables into paste’ technique or irritation.  Well, there was no point in delaying the inevitable.  And if he didn’t think about it too hard, Sans could almost pretend that he was dragging his feet because of his throbbing pelvis, and not because of his crushing anxiety, as he stepped into the kitchen.

“Heya bro-“ Sans tried for casual.

“How long have you been doing that to the pillows, Sans?” Papyrus cut him off immediately, turning to face him.  His expression flickered when he saw how awkwardly Sans was standing.  “Do you need to sit down?”

Sans gave him a weak chuckle.  “Nah, that’ll just make it worse.  Umm…” Sans counted back the days.  For something that had started out as a _welp, I’m bored.  Wonder how this’ll feel_ sort of thing, it had taken off in a surprising way.  “A month? Maybe more?”

“And you…you _like_ it?”

Sans took a deep breath. No lies.  Not to Papyrus.  Not ever. “Yeah.  Yeah, I like it.”

Papyrus gave him a worried look.  “But…you’re _hurting_ yourself!”

Sans forced himself not to mumble.  “Yeah, I like that too.”

Papyrus looked extremely concerned at this.  “You like hurting yourself?  But that’s so dangerous Sans!  What if you-“

“No, no, no, not like that!” Sans said quickly.  “It’s just the pain, Paps.  Not actual damage.  I don’t like taking it that far,” he chuckled ruefully, well aware of his pathetic HP. “I literally _can’t_ take it that far.”

Papyrus’ expression was more confused than anything else, but there was definitely a hint of relief in the way he said, “Well, ok then.  But you shouldn’t do it when I’m not around!”

Sans looked up with shocked surprise.  “W-what?” he spluttered.

“Sans, when I saw you up there, I thought you were really hurt!  The other kind of hurt, not the kind you said you like.  And you WERE stuck, weren’t you brother?”

“Heh, yeah,” Sans said, “Got myself into a _tight_ situation there.”

Papyrus didn’t even cringe at the pun.  “Well, what if I hadn’t come home until tonight?  You would have been stuck like that for hours!  And it would serve you right for being so reckless, but…” Papyrus wrung his hands.  “I don’t understand why you like _doing_ that…that thing with the pillows when it hurts you and makes everything so messy and hard to clean, but…” he looked up.  “Please, please, PLEASE be careful.”

Sans stared at him, feeling tears prick at the corners of his eyesockets.  “But…but I thought, you said I was d-disgusting,” Sans choked, feeling the word stick in his throat.  “Aren’t you mad?”

Papyrus huffed at him. “I am not mad Sans, I was merely stating the obvious!  You WERE disgusting, you got slime all over that poor pillow and you were an absolute mess!”  Papyrus looked at him critically.  “And those clothes were on the floor of your room, I saw them and I have a photographic memory for dirty laundry!  You’re so lazy-“

Sans lurched forward and wrapped his arms around Papyrus’ midsection in a tight hug.  Papyrus sighed and returned it, patting him on the back between his shoulders.  

“You’re the coolest, bro. I’ll be more careful.  Promise,” Sans mumbled into his brother’s apron.

“Of course I am!” Papyrus declared, then added, in a more gentle tone, “Thank you, brother.”


End file.
